It's Not Going To Be So Bad This Time
by ProTempore
Summary: [9th&10thDrabble posted] There are first times for everybody... Jack's are just incredibly hard to swallow.
1. It's Not Going To Be So Bad This Time

**It's Not Going To Be So Bad This Time.(1/1)**  
**A/N:** I wanted to make a collection of these about Jack but I don't know if I'll continue. However, this is supposed to be my take on what happens when Jack goes into the Mercer's. I don't know if I'm exactly happy with how it came out but I've had this in my mind for awhile.  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of the characters or Four Brothers.  
**Reviews:** Please.

**(1/1)  
**Jack's seen the devil already. He's gripped the mop of hair he's using as a crown and told him not to cry in the same breath. He's whispered his name. Intermingled it with the stench of whiskey and cigarette smoke.

He always told himself when he got to a new house "it's not going to be so bad this time," he had proved himself a liar over and over again but it seemed somehow mandatory to get past those first days. Arriving at the Mercer household he knew that he wouldn't be able to hide anymore. He hadn't come up with an alternative yet. He figured if it got too bad then he would just have to be extremely hard to handle. That way he would move onto the next. And next. For so long he had been able to hide under comforters, in closets, under beds. It didn't always work but a lot of the time it did and he knew that somehow it had always come in handy. He was awkward in his newly attributed body. He didn't know how to correctly twist his arms. He knocked things over for the first week. He always felt wrong. Wronger then before. Suddenly he had gone from being cute and cuddly to taller-than-everyone-else. The weight that had always made him just right made him too-thin in his new form. Malnourished, they called it.

It just didn't seem right that the only form of defense would be taken away from him.

His voice had been unnaturally twisted until it turned into what it was. _This_. This...Barry White impersonation.

The woman had already acquired the white hair donned by many older people. Had already perfected the kind face that he had seen so many times before. He wondered what would be waiting for him behind the door. That front porch. There was always something else waiting for him. The abusive boyfriend. The beer can filled coffee table.

He flinched when she tried to pat him on the shoulder. Pulled away and began writhing in the arms of the deliverer. "Sorry," she lowered her voice as if he couldn't hear, "ms. Mercer. He's been through some traumatic experiences. All abuse that you could think of," she further lowered her voice and leaned forward somewhat.

He only called them the deliverers. It was always the same way. That same conversation. "How are you? I'm (insert various name here). I'm the person that's going to make everything all better," or something around there. The first time he was six and six was still young enough to believe everything _anyone_ told him.

However, he had learned quick and by six years and eight months old he had begun to call them the deliverers. With their fake promises, and manilla files in tote. Just another nameless face.

The woman kneeling in front of him –who had perfected the kind face and white hair– smiled, rolling her head into the side. She chuckled, "Well don't worry there little man. I'm not going to touch you if you don't want me to. In fact we don't have to do anything you don't want to," any other child's mind may have ventured over to not going to school, not going to bed, not eating his vegetables...stuff of that sort. He interpreted it as I'm not going to hurt you.

Jack tried swallowing the lump rising in his throat.

"Now what's your name?"

"Jack," she smiled, wide, as if this was somehow tangible. As if he had just pained her the prettiest picture in the world and just as if she were wrapping her eyes around it.

"Jack," she repeated,"I'm Evelyn,"

"you ready to come in?"

His eyes ventured to the three kids hovering by the porch steps. She looked back at what he had suddenly found so interesting, "Oh those are my kids. That's Bobby. Angel. And that there's Jerry," he hadn't really paid attention to whom was being pointed to.

He nodded absently although this was the first sign that she was a liar. _Obviously_ older white women do **not** have _obviously _around-his-age African-American kids. It just didn't work that way. He nodded anyway though because she didn't seem to be that bad. So what if she was a liar. As long as she didn't touch him they would be find. Yeah. "It's not going to be so bad," he muttered to himself. For the final and last time, "it's not going to be so bad,"


	2. Bring Your Parent To School Day

**AN: **I decided to drag this all out into a unrelated series on Jack. Thank you: StormShadow, TeacherTam, AbbyMercer, No Longer Malicious and pwrhungryjr for all of your kind reviews! This idea just happend to come to me while driving home so I hope you guys enjoy. And please review. Many thanks.

**Bring Your Parent To School Day  
**Jack never really called her mother. He just stood there. Hovering in the doorway. She always marveled at how quiet he was. He could be somewhere for hours and not make a sound. He could be hungry for days and never open his mouth for food. He _had_ been hurting for so long and he never once even brought it up. He just kind of went with the flow. He had drifted into the Mercer household like a ghost. That's really the only word that would properly describe the pale-faced child. He hovered over the rooms occasionally. He would sometimes walk into Bobby's room -as Evelyn had been eagerly informed- randomly and just stand there. He wouldn't speak. Just stand. And Bobby- even being the seventeen year old prick he was known to be- never would turn him away. Sometimes Jack would stand up and watch the whole of whatever tv program Bobby had on. Just stand there. Never once sitting down on the ground or bed. Just stand.

Angel liked playing around with Jack. Football. Baseball. Racing. Tag with the neighborhood kids. He had purposely let Jack win a race once. He threw the baseball just that much slower when Jack was on the receiving end.

Jack never talked about what happened _before._ Although Evelyn had to drive to his fourth grade classroom numerous times because he had broken down for no apparent reason. There was a reason though. See, apparent would be the operative in that sentence. Evelyn could guess what happened to him. It had taken him a year and a half before he had begun wearing short sleeve shirts. Two years before he would play tackle football with the boys. In fact, it had been two years before he would go outside. For the first week or two he cried anytime anyone attempted to touch him. Had a full on panic attack. She had, had to explain to his kind-faced fourth grade teacher why, while Jack sat outside, huffing and puffing, clenched fists and all. He tried to seem tough. Clenching his fists so tight that his knuckles would turn white and then he would look at her. His blue eyes were widened and vulnerable...as usual.

At first she wasn't sure he would make it. When Bobby had come to her he punched several holes in various walls around the house. When Jerry had gotten to her he would steal food and hoard it in his room for the longest time. Angel refused to talk to anyone for the first month of being in the Mercer household. They had eventually come around though. That mattered. Jack though...she wasn't certain he would come around.

For one thing, he had never called Evelyn mother. He didn't acknowledge that he may've had parents before. That his parents had left him and pushed him into the hands of various people. He never even asked about them. It was almost as if he wanted Evelyn to be his real mother so he didn't have to face the fact that his parents had indeed left him. He never said it though. He never really addressed her in fact. They all could just assume that anytime Jack opened his mouth it was meant for Evelyn, because it was. He had never really called her mother. He just kind of stood there. A ghost in the kitchen doorway. "Hi jack," she pulled two eggs from the fridge and he dropped his backpack, letting it fall into the wall, "I was just starting to make a cake. Chocolate. You wanna help?"

He nodded absently although he remained standing there. She figured although he hadn't advanced to help...he hadn't backed away either...which counted for _something._ "There's this thing," she could never understand how Jack's voice could be so small. So young. She forgot sometimes how young he really was, "bring your parent's to school day. To talk about their work," he didn't exactly ask. He just said that. His eyes glued to her as if she were preparing to discover the cure to cancer.

"Well then," she placed both hands on her hips. An index finger on her chin, "I guess I'll just have to clear my calender Jackie boy, won't I?"

He kind of smiled before he left. Just like that. He had just turned around and left as if he hadn't even been there at all. He was a ghost. A ghost that had lived in her house for two and a half years already without even once calling her mother. "Guess we gotta start somewhere, huh, Jack?" she questioned herself, cracking one egg and dropping it into her bowl. Even if he didn't call her mother just yet...this was a start. A slow one...but a start nonetheless.

**Please review!!**


	3. The Candy Man P:1

**The Candy Man.(Part one)  
AN:** I tried out a new style for this chapter. I'm unsure of how exactly it's working though. I tried to make it's more in Jack's mind. The way I've phrased things and the fragment sentences are due to this. I'm unsure if it's come out effective or like a piece of a crappy, grammatically incorrect fanfic. Please review and tell me.

**1/2**  
He's sitting on the school steps trying to convince everyone- only himself really- that Evelyn _is_ his mother. And he's special. And he doesn't have to know who his father is even if he still has his last name because Evelyn's going to file papers today that'll give him her name. And everybody else on the playground...well they're just stupid because they don't believe him. He's biting his bottom lip, trying to still the trembling when she approaches. She has pig-tails and she knows his name although he doesn't quite know hers. He runs the back of his hand over his cheek and scoots over so she can sit down beside him (per her request). "I'm Star," he thinks that's stupid and that they were wrong to laugh at him...with her having such a stupid name like that, "what's your mom's name again?" she's looking at him with brown eyes. Warm brown eyes that are kind-of wide and kind-of not. Just right maybe? Either way, he thinks he likes them.

"Evelyn," he grumbles. And he thinks that she doesn't deserve to know it but it's nullified by the fact that she seems kind enough.

"That's a pretty name," she talks with a lisp, slurring her 's' and drawing out the name.

Jack nods in agreement and steals a quick glance at her. Her sweater is pink to match her skirt of a darker color. He suddenly feels self-conscious, pulling down his sleeves to cover bruises that have long ago faded and given way to his natural skin color.

She sighs and folds her arms over her lap, "Your house is tan right? We just moved down the street," he wonders if this is why she's sitting next to him or if she's seen the altercation between him and the fifth grade boys. He figures it's the later of the two and hates himself for always inducing pity.

"Oh,"

She pulls out a sucker and he remembers a time when candy was actually sweet to him. Before he had been bribed with it for so long that he had lost any taste for it what-so-ever. As if a sucker or two could suddenly erase his swollen eye. As if now-and-laters had such a power to erase any wrongdoing. He accepts the sucker though when she offers it to him with "you want the rest?" half because most of the kids in the class won't even sit by him or share a book with him during reading time not to even talk about sharing a sucker with him and half because he thinks that maybe he can save it the rest of the day and take it home with him to give to Evelyn. He nods (somewhat) and takes it.

"I got another one," she proves, pulling a grape sucker out of her lunch box although he hasn't asked her to or even tried accusing her of lying in any way, "my dad's a candy man," he thinks she's lying (because he's never heard of a 'candy man' except in the movie that he didn't want to watch but watched anyway because Angel told him the scary stuff wasn't really real anyway) until she shows him her lunch box complete with seven articles of candy rolling around inside. She rests her head on her lap and picks it up only when she hears the ring of the recess bell. "See you inside Jack," she's yelling over her shoulder as her flip flops make the familiar sound of running. Clip. Clop. Clip. Clop.

And he smiles-still clutching that strawberry sucker- just now realizing that he's not crying anymore.


	4. The Candy Man P:2

**The Candy Man. (Part two)  
**Bobby's listening to ten minutes of Jack coming in and out of the house, opening the fridge, closing the fridge, and rustling around in the kitchen before he gets up from his cozy spot on the couch, watching Saturday morning re-runs of Happy Days, to see what he's up to.

"Whatcha doin you little rat?" He says this before getting up and sighs when he doesn't hear a response. He pushes the refrigerator door shut after seeing that Jack has left it slightly ajar and readies his mouth to tell Angel and him to quit opening the door when he realizes Jack isn't with Angel.

They're out there madly swapping candy. There's a pile of wrappers between them and Bobby realizes that _this_ is the very reason that his brother has turned their freezer into a chocolate shop. The very reason why Jack would snap anytime Bobby even looked like he were about to steal one.

"Whatcha looking at?" Evelyn asked, yawning and rubbing her eyes, "you guys want breakfast?" she's re-tying the string on her robe before sweeping her fingers through her hair.

"Naw. I made them something to eat,"

She moved in beside him to stare out the front door window and expelled a light chuckle, "oh _her_,"

"You mean you know her?"

Jack was laughing heartedly at something that had happened. From Bobby's vantage point it almost looked as if they were having a contest down there on the porch steps. The pile of wrappers had grown to an unexpected size. It consisted of different variations of mostly chocolate.

"Jack's been going down the street to play with her for the last week. You know Mr.Curly? The candy shop owner? That's his daughter,"

Bobby doesn't expect this to last for too much longer. Just a week ago Evelyn had received her last call about "Jack failing to acknowledge his class mates and avoiding contact with them,"

Plus, he refused to accept that Jack would talk to her. He would stand in Bobby's doorway for a hour or so and not say a thing. "Don't dwell on it Bobby. Jack just needs to talk to someone that treats him like everyone else. We can't because-" she pulls the coffee maker out from under the sink, "we know that horrible things've happened to him. He just needs someone that he doesn't have to explain himself to," she pats him on the shoulder while on her way to grab the Foldgers out of the cabinet, "and it's good for him to have friends his own age dontcha think?"

He contemplates what this means for a moment. No more of Jack's hovering. No more of having to read Jack's mind. No more of trying his hardest not to get frustrated because Jack never says what he means even when he asks him too. No more of Jack just appearing out of nowhere and watching tv with him for hours without saying a word, disappearing to grab snacks but always reappearing. No more of forfeiting his Friday's to watch Jack when Evelyn works late even if he could be doing _way _better things with _way_ better looking people. He tried smiling and came up with the first joke he could find, "looks like it's time for someone to talk about the birds and the bees huh?"

"_Bobby_ he's only nine,"

"Hmph give him another year and he'll be beating my record,"

Evelyn crunched her face in disgust, "Bobby Mercer!"

"What?" Bobby innocently asks.

"I hope you aren't filling your brother's with that disgusting knowledge," she wags her index finger at him knowing that he already has.

And he kind of frowns, kind of attempts-a-smile because he gets the feeling that he won't have the ability to fill Jack's mind with any disgusting knowledge anymore. And that terrifies him more then anything. The fact that maybe he would want to watch tv with someone else. That maybe he would be grabbing snacks in between commercial breaks and always coming back to someone else. Evelyn watches his face intently as his eyes glaze over somewhat, "you know he loves you Bobby?" she poses it as a statement but he takes it as a question. Because he really doesn't know.

"Yeah," he's looking over at him now, the image of his mother taking the place of his potential brother, "I know,"


	5. Santa Baby

**Santa Baby 1/1  
****AN:** At first I thought I may use this as a stand-alone considering that it's much longer than the other ones but I figured in the end that it may just make a good edition. I was thinking about how many of these I'm really going to make and I decided that I want to go along throughout the movie following Jack's life. So when I get to that point, these'll end.

**One/One  
**Bobby doesn't like Jack being like this. Silent. Making small pictures in his passenger side window. He doesn't like Jack not talking to him because he never really knows what he's thinking and he's long ago learned that what Jack doesn't say is much more dangerous then what he does. He doesn't exactly know _how_ they've gotten to this point. Well...he kind of does. Jack wants to see Santa Claus. This seems painless enough but not when considering that Bobby had just gotten to sleep and had to wake up to take him. Their conversation consisted of:

"_What Jack?"_ _checking the alarm clock, "it's not morning yet,"_

"_Can you take me to see Santa Claus at the mall?"_

"_Jack? I'm fucking sleeping,"_

"_I just...well...you told me if I ever needed anything-"feeling guilty now because he did say this and Jack rarely asks for anything._

"_I haven't slept in like two days. Please. Tonight is the only night I have to get to bed early,"_

"_It's only eight and ...well...you said..."_

"_Fine. Give me ten minutes,"_

And he didn't even exactly know who had taken over his brain and made him say those things. Bobby didn't like to be waken up out of his sleep. In fact, this all was kind of ridiculous. Santa Claus? With the shit Jack's been through how can he believe in anything? God, gods, the Easter Bunny, the Tooth Fairy, etc. Not only would ma have his head if she found out that Bobby took him out on a school night but really he felt like he should bang his head against a wall for her. "Did Santa every bring you anything?

"No Jack,"

"Not even coal?"

"Why would he bring me coal Jack?"

"I figure if you haven't gotten anything than maybe you've been bad,"

"Santa used to bring you things?" he says this sarcastically knowing that two years ago had been the first time he had even dressed a Christmas tree.. Bobby had rightfully believed that Jack's last two Christmas's with the Mercer's had been his first celebrated holiday in fact.

"Yes," he speaks as if this is nothing.

Bobby himself doesn't want to make a big deal out of this. He just wonders what perverted bastard would have the nerve to abuse a childhood and then send him gifts from Santa? "Every year?" he doesn't want to make this seem like such a big deal that Jack would misinterpret hin. Jack does this a lot. Bobby would think something innocuous and Jack would run away or see it as something completely different. Something threatening.

"_Yeah_ Bobby. Santa just can't skip a year can he?" when there's no more fog for him to draw in he rests his head on the door, wondering exactly what he's going to ask Santa for.

* * *

"No. Ok, I'm sorry I didn't know you had to pay to see Santa these days. Let me just go over there to the ATM and I can get some money and everything will be all good-"

"Ho, ho, ho. Sorry son but that won't work. See I'm closing in a minute,"

"Yeah but I got a little boy back there," Bobby pointed back to Jack, who had since hidden his hands in his pocket, trying to keep his frustration level low, "and he's been through hell and all he wants is to see _Santa Claus_,"

"Ho, ho, ho. I wish I could help but-"

"Look you fucking bastard," Bobby lowers his voice so Jack won't have stories about _Bobby_ cussing out Santa Claus to tell Evelyn. He already told the woman everything, "I just want you to let that boy back there sit on your lap and let him tell you what the fuck he wants for Christmas. It's not like you gotta buy it or any shit like that just fucking let him sit on your-"

He could even see behind the thick mask of Santa's white beard that he was becoming annoyed, "Ho, ho, ho-"

"Stop saying that ho, ho, ho, ok? If you don't I'm going to punch you in your fucking face-"

Santa eyed the passer by's nervously, "Ho, ho, ho-"

Jack's mouth turned into a o in seeing Bobby punch Santa. He didn't know what to think even when Bobby grabbed his wrist and pulled him away, "come on Jack stop looking back,"

Even back in the car he didn't exactly know what to say. He had only _heard_ stories of Bobby punching walls and on occasion people. His favorite was the story of how Bobby had punched a guy right in the face because he had said something bad about a girl that he had crush on. Of course he had gotten beat up by five guys but it still made Bobby seem like some kind Super Hero. Like Superman or something. Defending a girl's honor. But punching Santa? Honestly, he didn't know what to think. Jack had learned to kind of trust Bobby. He didn't even know Santa but... maybe... Santa just happened to be like all of the other people that only brught him presents to try and make him forget about the _mistake_ they had just made. "Look. Don't go tellin' ma I punched Santa ok?"

Jack nodded although Bobby could tell he was barely listening.

"I'm serious. She'll go on about how I need help and all of this shit. This is between you and me ok?"

He nodded once more.

"And if you ever need anything forget about asking Santa. You just ask me ok,"

He was surprised when he heard an actually audible yes. He looked over at Jack to see him staring up at him, "you can have my present,"

"Huh?"

"I mean...I kinda think you're getting coal this year...you can have my present and I can take the coal since it's kinda my fault any-"

"You gotta stop thinking everything's your fault ok you little fairy?"

Jack nodded once more although Bobby was afraid he really hadn't grasped what he was saying to him. "Really though...I don't mind coal this year,"

"Trust me...if I get some fucking coal-" Bobby paused thinking back to all of the times Evelyn had told him not to cuss in front of Jack because it frightened him. Made him think that Bobby was angry at him, "if I get some coal...we'll both go and stick it up that guys-" he pulled up to their house, tired, and kind of thankful still that he had gotten up for this little excursion, "I'll handle it then. Just don't think about it. And remember not to tell ma ok?"

"Ok," he kept staring at Bobby as if he were going to do something miraculous even after he had turned off the ignition.

"I'm serious about what I'm saying Jack. Just us. We're all you need,"

Jack preferred to think of Bobby as the person that had defended some girl's honor instead of the guy that had just punched Santa but... he couldn't exactly say that he didn't trust it was for a reason. And so what if Bobby would get coal? Maybe it was even a reason worth that. And for that reason and that reason alone Jack didn't mind sharing his gift with Bobby. Not at all.

**Review Please!!**


	6. The Calm Before The Storm

**The Calm Before The Storm.  
****AN:** Thak you for all of your reviews last chapter Abby Mercer, Teacher Tam, Rider, Master Archer, KunoichiX, and JackDrinksJack (I absolutely adore your name. It makes me automatically remember that scene from the movie)! In this chapter I tried to focus on Jack more and his inhibitions so hopefully you guy's will enjoy this!!

**(1/1)  
**They've spent many Friday nights like this actually. A boring existence. The calm before the storm. Soon they'll be spending Fridays crashing the latest parties and acting as a portable hair clip while the other pukes their brains out. They've spent many Friday nights like this. Some even with Evelyn in between them as she struggles to keep up with the latest horror flick they've rented (because we all know they never really have plots anyway). This time should be no different although it is.

"Didn't Jake ask you out tonight?" he reaches for the pop corn in the middle of them.

She shrugs indifferently, wishing that he would shut up so she could continue watching the tv version of Titanic, "I would rather be here," she utters in between chewing down the popcorn she's just pushed into her mouth and grabbing her cup of Coke on the coffee table. There's a flicker of honesty in her voice. At least there would be if it weren't clouded by the sarcasm.

Star's had a crush on Jake ever since the sixth grade when he was the only person to tell her she looked pretty with her braces on.

She would rather have on a prom dress right now instead of sitting on his couch with her old sweat pants and t-shirt on. However, this is where they're at. "You don't have to stay," he says this as low as he can hoping that she won't hear. Besides, she seems to be much too enthralled with Jack and Rose apparently freezing to death. Her eyes are beginning to glaze and he can see a small tear roll down her cheek, "just because my girlfriend stood me up. That doesn't mean that you have to stay with me," they always sit like this. Both at each end of the couch as if it would hurt to sit any closer, "I don't want your pity,"

"Will you shut up Jack?" Star's voice is twisted and hoarse. Cracking with anguish.

"I'm just saying," he mumbles to himself. He sits there are pretends he cares about this _Rose_ getting out of the clutches of her previous life (as Star has stated).

His hand brushes hers and she seems to stop for the slightest moment before snatching it away so he can eat the rest of his pop corn and try to get into whatever drama she's popped in. And he can feel her eyes outlining his face even afterward and he tries not to flinch when she covers his hand with hers. Really, the only person he lets do this is Evelyn.

Bray's the epitome of a first girlfriend, cliche and all. She comes by everyday and Jack and her talk about absolutely nothing. _She_ talks, more like it. Not him. He holds her books and walks her to her classes because although he may not want to that's the thing to do.

He tries not to pull his hand away because he knows that's not the thing to do but he hates the feeling he gets when he's that close to anyone and he doesn't want to freak out like he usually does when he pretends like he isn't. "Sorry," she's blushing when he looks over at her and he realizes that for as long as he's known Star the only time they've been this close is when he helped Evelyn apply the peroxide and gauze when she scraped her knee.

"It's not you," now he acts like he's way more into this movie then he really is. He hopes she won't prolong this conversation because it may not be her but he doesn't at all want to tell her what or _who_ exactly it really is.

"Sorry," her voice is cracking again and it's not because of Titanic and her face is beet red and he's certain it's not because she's blushing anymore.

"Come on don't cry Star. It's not that serious," Jack's horrible at comforting people. He doesn't know exactly what to say to make _anyone _stop crying, freaking out, etc. And when he kisses her cheek to stop the next tear from falling he's unsure of exactly what he's doing, barely noticing that he hasn't breathed any until he nearly chokes in for air. When his lips fall down to hers and he thinks back to the time that she first got braces and wore thick-rimmed, red, glasses before getting contacts. He barely realizes that his hand is roaming up her thigh until she pulls away and he realizes that they're still there in that living room that they've spent half of their friendship in.

"He stood me up,"

"Who?"

"I waited a hour and he went with someone else," she was sniffling still, tugging at her still-fresh curls now, "I wanted to just cut it all off," he rests his hand in those curls without thinking of it because if he should he knows that he'll realize how close they are and automatically pull away like always, "Promise you won't leave," she rests her head on his shoulder and whispers it into his ear and they stay there until Angel comes home from Sofi's and everything seems normal again. They're sitting just the slightest closer now. And Jack can feel the change creeping up on them and fixing to rest over their shoulders. She's sleep before the movie ends, as usual, her head resting gently on the arm of the sofa.

"Would it kill yall to go out and do something for a change?" Angel crunches his face, peeking into living room.

And he sees this as ironic because he doesn't want anything to change. Nothing at all. Soon, however, they will find out the glory of vodka and of drinking-way-too-much and they will find out what it really means to loose and Jack'll find out what it really means to want to die also. Right now he's content with their couch in their small part of the universe and nothing more. The calm before the storm.

**Please Review!!**


	7. A Crook In The Neck

**A Crook In The Neck.  
****AN:** Seeing as if this is all following a timeline I wanted to do a oneshot before this one but I just couldn't get it down pact! Anyways...here's another long one. It always gets long when Bobby comes into the picture... I just couldn't help but doing this little introspection on Bobby. In no way do I think that this actually went on before the movie. Just entertaining the idea.

**1/1  
**Bobby had found him on the couch when he had came down for a midnight snack. Of course he had told Evelyn that he would stay up and wait on Jack to get home so she didn't have to but at two o'clock it had become kind of pointless. He figured that Star had probably dropped him off sometime, using the key under the door mat, "come on Jack," Bobby smacked his thigh somewhat although he had already knew that Jack was out stone cold. He abandoned his sandwich on the table–for now– and pulled the boy up. Of course he had always been curious as to what Jack ran from. Jack loved to throw it in his face that he did the same shit but at lest Bobby_ knew_ what he did it for. He was angry. Refused to believe that Evelyn –or anyone for that matter– could care about him. His partying was short lived however. He did his little shit and moved on. Even his whole little spiels about fucking around with every girl was a lie. Bobby didn't necessarily fuck everybody. He flirted. Of course. He flirted with near to everything that walked but what Bobby actually took home with him was limited. He had boundaries. And he didn't just fuck everybody. The only time he really found it necessary to fuck _anybody_ was when he had to. Jack needed to learn that. He needed to learn that life needs boundaries, "fuck. I never realized how heavy you are you little fairy,"

By no means did "can you come home for while?" entail "can you come home for awhile and watch Jackie boy ruin his life?"

Because obviously this was the direction they had moved in. And Bobby wasn't one of Jack's little friends. He didn't _have_ to pick him up and carry him out of parties and laugh and make sure his hair didn't get in his face when he puked and take off his shoes before dumping him on the couch. He didn't have to do that shit and he wouldn't. He always said this of course. He said he wouldn't deal with Jack's shit. His whole please-don't-touch-me/ please-don't-leave-me-shit. He didn't have to deal with Jack. Didn't want to. He didn't want to guess what was on his mind all because Jack couldn't tell anyone to save his life. He didn't want to hear Jack beat around the bush and get overtly frustrated when Bobby couldn't understand his fragment sentences. He pulled off Jack's leather coat and tried to pull his shirt over his head. "Why your candy ass gotta fall so fucking hard Jack?"

Jack made Bobby feel stupid. Always. Like what he did with everyone else didn't work with Jack. Jack would always give him this look. This kind of "are-you-shittin-me-look?" He did that a lot. Gave that look that makes you feel as if somehow you've missed something and no matter what you do you can't help but be on the outside. Sometimes he had even made him feel as if he could see right through him. Of course he didn't mean to do it. Jack didn't mean to do anything really. He was getting better, Evelyn had always said. When he had first come to them he wouldn't say anything and he needed absolute reassurance with the things he would say. If not he would purse his lips for the rest of their time together. Jack always monitored everyone's speech. Their mannerisms. Their gestures. And when other people would nod slightly and pretend as if they had been listening Jack would be re-playing everything in his mind and checking for any faults It was kind of annoying and yet refreshing at the same time. Just the familiarity of it. "You know when you came here I thought that maybe you would never come around? That you would never get it. Get over off the shit that happened to you. I just wanted you to know that I would protect you. And you wold cry anytime I yelled but you would cry if I tried to make it better and-" Bobby thought to himself exactly how foolish this was. Saying all of the things he wished he could say just because Jack was passed out. Finally getting up the guts to tell Jack how he really felt. All of the things that he usually tried to mask with jokes, "I was just so fucking frustrated Jack. Angel was easy. All he needed was someone to care about him and Jerry was always good at heart but...you. You asshole... you just always had to do shit. Like innocuous shit. You would refuse to go anywhere with me but if I let Angel drive my car you would go with him to fucking Timbuktu. You know what ma said? She said that you were afraid to get too close for when you left again," Bobby chuckled to himself and wondered exactly _why_ he had chosen to stop smoking again.

"But...you know we're not so different...you and I. I try and pretend like we are but we aren't. I never really told anybody this shit but...when I was about eleven, just before I came to Evelyn, I lived in this family. Me and this little boy. And they were fucking perfect. I thought I had hit the jackpot. A quick family that I could knock over fast and run away from. Then that little fucking boy started sleeping with me. And I thought 'whatever'. I was an asshole but I could tell he was scared. I was just as scared before I got the shit beat outta me and I would let him sleep with me and it would just be alright. And then one night I turned him away. I was pissed because with him sleeping with me I couldn't run. And for some reason...I couldn't... And the next day I don't know what happened but I think we were playing around and I lifted up his shirt. I think I was tickling him or something and that's when I seen the bruises. I made him tell me what happened and you know what the fuck he said? He touches me. And I didn't know what to do because I knew that I couldn't care about this kid but I couldn't help it. So I ended up staying...convincing myself that I was doing the kid some good. And then he came into my room. And I didn't know what to do. And he tried to touch me...and he did...and I started crying. Like really crying. It was the first time I had cried since I was five and the next night when he tried to do it again I stabbed him. And I swear Evelyn wouldn't let me go. I came through her agency and she fucking fought for me. She made me tell her why I stabbed him. She was the first person I ever told. She was the first person that ever cared. And when I seen you. I swear you looked just like that little fucking kid," he looked back at his brother who had just seemingly rustled around in his sleep.

"Am I dreaming?" Jack asked, wiping the sleep from his eyes.

"No Jack,"

"It feels like a dream,"

"No, that's just cause your fucked up,"

"What are you doing here?"

"Somebody had to carry your little feather ass up the stairs. Besides, I told ma I would wait for you so she would have a fit if she knew I left you down there," Bobby rose and Jack's clammy hand found his. Tugging.

"You think that maybe you could sleep here. Like you used to do when I was little," his grip was weak.

"On the floor? _Jack..._" Of course he slept in front of Jack's door when he was little. Little, little, though. And only because Evelyn had said that Jack's normal childhood monsters were real as day to him. But this was before Bobby had turned somewhere-near-thirty and before the last hockey season and before (as Evelyn had said) he-started-killing-himself-with-that-game, "you better appreciate this shit when I wake up with a crook in my neck. Give me a pillow," Bobby commanded.

Suddenly he remembered his sandwich of perfection that he had abandoned on the living room coffee table. And no matter how cheesy he couldn't help think that maybe it was a metaphor for his life. His life with Jack. Meaning that no matter what. No matter what Bobby said. He would always turn his back on everything to come back to Jack and sleep on his fucking floor in front of the door so the monsters wouldn't bother him. Even if he _would_ wake up with a crook in his neck.

**Please review!! Tell me what you guys thought!!  
You guys should also check out YoursTruly's writing. It's great.**


	8. Only With A Wall Of Cigarette Smoke

**Only With A Wall Of Cigarette Smoke.  
****AN:** Thanks, Cornelia, Iris, No Longer Malicious (As always), Teacher Tam, JackDrinksJack, and Jill. I really appreciated all of your reviews so much!! I got 179 hits on the last chapter and you guys were the only ones to review!! Thanks again. Anyway, this is just a warning: This chapter contains darker themes than I've explored in previous chapter (can't give the Jack angst _too_ much of a rest can I?). If your weary about homosexuality in itself I think that you may not want to read on. You judge that. I promise nothing graphic though.  
**AN2:** We actually have some Jerry interaction in this story (I just thought that was notable and pretty impressive in itself.) Of course, I've never really written Jerry though...A minor problem.

**1/1  
**The smoke swirls between them like some kind of wall they've built up. And Jack's really the only one building here with the way he's puffing on his cigarette. He's unsure if he should have thought longer about it before giving Jack a cigarette. He's knows that he should have thought about it longer before placing his whole pack on the table. He's somewhat happy though that three cigarettes later (one for himself, two for Jack) that he's finally quit shaking. He looks a little more content now and a little less like he's going to throw up. And Jerry's happy for that moment that they share when he's made things right. He hasn't smoked in years and he had brought along the little commodity to make Jack ok. Camille would have his head if she found out. She would never say it but she knew anytime the "brothers" came around trouble followed. He had picked up the nasty habit from Bobby in the first place who did a bad job at hiding the cigarettes and threatened him –although the fear of Evelyn knowing about his own smoking habit prevented him from executing anything– when he found out they were missing.

Jack shouldn't be smoking at sixteen. Especially taking in the smoke like the season veteran he is. He shouldn't be in a bar with Jerry either. Although, maybe he should have never been hurt by someone three times his age when he was barely old enough to start kindergarten himself. "You wanna talk?" it's the first thing said between the two of them and Jack suddenly looks as if he remembers the whole sad situation. As if he remembers, just now, that he's in a smoke filled room with Jerry who had just hurriedly thrown on some old sweat pants after being summoned out of his bed at two a.m.

"_You think I'm pretty?" a joke. That's all it is. And yet when he hears it his cheeks turn red and he clenches his jaw._

The smoke has cleared. It's no longer swirling in front of their eyes, hindering any actual eye-contact they may have. It's time to talk. Jerry has always cherished the small moments he's had with Jack. Evelyn's always saying that they should hang out more. He's not Bobby though. He doesn't exactly know how he should react to Jack calling him this late and telling him to pick him up from some corner. He doesn't know how to react to Jack sniffling in his passenger seat, all the while trying his hardest not to cry.

"_You do," he's unsure if this is accusing or if they're still joking around. A sly smile falls over his face. A cocky smile. It's a thick whisper masked in whiskey. And it reminds him of someone else that used to whisper in whiskey and touch his lips to his ear._

"I'm not gay," his voice is a false mask of confidence. He's trying to seem like he makes the slightest lick of sense and Jerry can't help but thinking that this is a shitty way to spend more time with each other. It does, however, take his mind off of how he's going to explain coming home reeking of smoke and even evade the look of suspicion when he tells Camille one of his brother's needed help. He doesn't want Jack to come out to him. He doesn't have much to offer him. Some words of encouragement. It'll all be ok. Don't worry about it. And Jack doesn't buy that kind of shit. Not since he was a kid.

"_You know what I think? I think you should let me kiss you," and Jack's unsure if he's asking or if he's commanding but he likes to think he has a choice although he doesn't object._

"Why do you bring this up?" he tries to sound casual, looking over the small selection of food –that no one eats anyway– on the surprisingly large and empty menu.

"He tried to kiss me,"

"_Who_..Jack?" and he's not sure if he wants to know but he asks anyway.

He looks uncomfortable now and Jerry decides to ask him if he wants anything to eat.

"I don't like him. I mean...I do. We like the same things... and... He doesn't like that stupid, crappy music that everybody else does and he doesn't listen to us play only when he's stoned and... but...that's how all friends feel. And he asked first. He did. And I thought that maybe I wouldn't mind but then I thought about it Jer..." he's trying to hold back the tears again, his voice becoming tight, "and...I felt like I used to. When I was six. And the music was so loud and...I couldn't breathe. And the smoke was so heavy and..." he takes another drag of the cigarette, wondering exactly what he should say, "And I wanted him to stop...I did...but I couldn't speak and-" Jerry was no longer sure if they were talking about that night or what had happened to him before.

Jerry's uncomfortable. He doesn't hear much about Jack freaking out. Only it mentioned in an off-handed way on the calls when Evelyn would ramble on. Most of the times he wouldn't even hear about the actual situation. Just "Jack's getting better". He hasn't had to deal with it for a long time now. If he steps back to examine the situation it would seem as if his brother has just told him that another guy kissed him. And he let him. He freaked out. And hence the two a.m. phone call. Jack's fiddling with his hands now and Jerry could see him contemplating whether or not he should get another cigarette. "Go ahead man. They're all yours," Jerry waved them away, knowing that he'll regret it.

Jack doesn't take another one though. He just gets that lost look in his eyes. "A lot of people say it's normal to experiment," and just after he says it he knows it's the wrong thing to say. Jack doesn't want to hear that he's experimenting. He wants to hear that he's normal. But saying that he's normal would entail that Jack isn't. That he has a reason to be reassured of his normality. Besides, we all know that Jack's not normal and Jerry certainly doesn't like to lie...

"Can I have french fries?" he's looking at him like he did before. The first time he had tagged along with Camille and him when they were still sweethearts and he was still afraid to ask anything or even speak up. He couldn't believe that Jerry would allow him to get anything. And later on that night Jerry had to explain to Evelyn exactly _why_ she had found soggy, greasy fries in his coat pocket when she went to wash it. Yes, he was a peculiar one indeed. Jerry had never heard of anyone putting food in their pocket just for safe keeping. Of course when he had first gotten to the Mercer's he used to steal food. This was only because Jerry wanted to make sure he would have food to eat. It was a survival tactic. Jerry got the feeling that Jack didn't know _what_ he was trying to accomplish. Ever.

"Get whatever Jack," he watches him walking up there. Tries to take a mental picture. He rests his eyes for the moment that Jack's gone and wakes up to find him watching him intently. "It's last call," his voice is once more small and Jerry feels as if Jack's been studying him for some reason. He's only been sleep for thirty minutes. Jack's basket of french fries are empty. Jerry yawns and rubs his eyes. Jack continues to look as if he's just woken up. He's calm now.

"You wanna stay with me tonight? Don't worry...I'll talk to ma in the morning. She's probably sleeping. You ok though Jack?"

Jack attempts a brief smile. "Can you not tell anyone?"

"About the night or the guy,"

"The guy,"

Jerry nods. He wasn't going to anyway but it feels good to share something with Jack. Even if it is a secret.

He waves bye to the bartender. They don't speak on the ride home. Jerry gets the feeling that they can't say anything. That they don't have any words left. He likes the feeling they get. The feeling he gets when he watches Jack walk into his apartment. "Let me get your coat man," Jack's out of it. His eyes somewhat red-rimmed. And Jerry even likes the feeling he gets when he feels those soggy french fries in his coat pocket while hanging it up on the coat hanger. He wonders if he should throw them out before deciding against it and joining Jack and Camille in the living room in which she gives him that look. She grabs the pillows and blankets and tells Jack that there's an extra tooth brush in the bathroom. He nods, kind of absently, and looks over at him. Jerry thinks that he might've mouthed a thank you although he knows this probably isn't probable considering it's Jack. And when he's sleep, he stands there just before joining his fiancé in bed. He takes one more mental picture. A peculiar one indeed. And he knows that he's not Bobby and he doesn't know the right things to say when Jack tells him he's kissed another man and he just now figures out that, that's not what Jack needs at all. And it feels good to share that small moment. Even if it's short-lived. Even if he's said the wrong thing and even if he isn't Bobby...because he likes the feeling of _himself_ being enough...even if just for that moment.

**AN3**: I'm still kind of uncertain about this one. I hope that Jack's not OOC. I know that Jack would probably never actually volunteer information to his brothers or openly volunteer to talk. I just hope that I didn't write him wrong or anything. Anyway, review please.


	9. Your Body Is A Wonderland

**Your Body Is A Wonderland.**

**AN:** Long time no see! I contemplated a lot before posting this but it's made it. I decided to post two chapters this time to make up for my being so late so hopefully no one's too angry... Anyway, I've been trying new styles lately and playing with new things. I've especially been working on a Final Fantasy AU so..yup...I'm working pretty hard. Hope you guys like! Thank you to all of my reviewers also. I may be much too lazy to reply to everyone but you guys must know how much your reviews light up my day!

**(1/1)  
****We got this afternoon.  
****You got this room for two.  
****One thing I've left to do...  
****Discover me.  
****Discovering you.**

He tried focusing on the flower. She kept real flowers. Loved them. Usually they matched her yellow beetle –yellows or reds– and sometimes she would go on a whim and even buy purples or blues. He knew this car well enough. The song playing in the background even more so. Your Body Is A Wonderland. He had made her this mix tape when he had first _really _gotten into guitars. Playing gigs and stuff. He had labeled it 'The Yellow Beetle' and that was cheesy and corny but he had named it that and she had played it for months to come. It was the only thing she played. Even after she had gotten other tapes and the tape had obviously already served her purpose it was all she played. And he had gotten sick of it. On the way to school. On the way home. Going to the latest party. Etcetera. Etcetera. Etcetera. He even opted for the radio instead. Jack had never really been the sentimental type. Maybe it was because he had never kept things just-because before. That would take too much time to pack. Too much trouble. He had never collected things like normal people. Old movie tickets. Phone numbers. Birthday cards. Things like that. It had made him feel weird going into Star's room for the first time. Because her room was messy without being messy. Every dresser full. Every corner packed with something. Her old school projects. Her Barbie Malibu Beach House. Jack's room was completely empty. Of course he had things. All the things Evelyn had given him. Trivial things. And he hadn't even really realized why she had given them to him until he had walked into Star's room at the age of ten. "Can you believe we made it?" she still has the dress she wore to graduation and him those stupid slacks Evelyn had made him wear. She had compromised that he could wear a t-shirt if he wore the slacks. Only because no one would see the t-shirt, "graduation," she says this as if he's forgotten. As if he would forget. Her voice is all mystical like.

"No," they're both in the back of her car and it's one of those moments. One of those now or never moments because although they have the whole summer in front of them this is the only time that they've both ever felt like there's suddenly no more time left, "Ma wants to throw me an open house still. I told her she doesn't have to,"

"We could throw ours together. We have all the same friends anyway,"

He enjoys things like this. Usually people dance around what they're saying around him. They hint at this and hint at that but they never actually come out and say it. Never. Even Bobby has his inhibitions around him. Star's the only person that assumes things. The only person that _tells_ him what he wants. And he knows that this is bad but it still somehow seems special anyway.

"You wanna go change and crash a party?" sometimes it would be the only place they could go. The back of her car. When things got too heavy. When both of them were in trouble and they knew that either Evelyn had called her father or her father had called Evelyn. They would sit their for hours and talk about nothing. Not like they were avoiding anything. That whole deal of "escapism" had just come in handy sometimes. Made them feel as if they had some say in something.

"No," he shakes his head although he doesn't know what he wants to do yet.

"Well we gotta do something Jack. We can't just not do anything,"

"Why?"

"It's not normal," she's studying the side of his face again.

"Nothing we do is normal," he doesn't like his eyes on her. Like she sees something that's not there. Or something that's not supposed to be there, "what?"he hates meeting eyes with anyone. Just that moment.

"I know that I'm leaving. And we're just friends and... I've known you all of my life..." her eyes seem wide now, "but I wanna kiss you," and he doesn't object and so she does and her hand runs up, and rests on his shoulder and at first she barely notices that he's not kissing her back. It's when he leans back and she's on top of him, her thumb snagged on the button of his slacks-

"I love you," she's whispering it as if they would cause attention to themselves if she were to speak any louder. As if the whole world was listening in. And she ran her finger over his cheeks and down, down, down-

and that's when he starts to freak out. He doesn't want to. He never wants to. Jack just hates the whole situation. It's not that he's asexual or anything. He just hates being touched. He just hates the feeling of somebody else wanting anything from him. Something that he possibly can't give. He had given up on sex. After the first couple of times with Bray he had completely forgotten it. Or at least tried to. He wasn't normal. Of course...but just Star has said...they had never been normal. If only she knew. He's trying to control his breathing. Trying not to breathe too hard or too lightly. He didn't want her to look at him weird. Because he should be working on getting her dress off and telling her how beautiful she is and he just can't. "you ok?" he's backed up into the right side door, "you look pale..."' and she's unsure if he's always been like that or if she's just made some horrible mistake.

"I can't do this,"

She raises her hands in surrender. "That's ok. We're not doing anything," she tries chuckling a bit to ease the sudden tension, "you don't have to do anything. You want some air?" she's climbing to the front seat without him answering, turning on the ignition and rolling down every window.

His eyes dropped to his lap where he had interlaced his fingers.

She hated the way he would sometimes flinch when she touched him even after knowing her for all of the years they had. He would pull away automatically anytime they got too close. The only time she had _really_ learned anything about Jack before she had known him was from the time Bobby had cornered her and told her not to hurt him. Told her things about him having anxiety problems where he couldn't get too close. "Can we talk about your past Jack? I mean I know it's not like I'm leaving tomorrow but...with getting ready for college and everything...what if this is the last time? And you don't have to say anything if-" it's easier this way. With her in the front seat and him in the back. Neither one of them have to look at each other.

"There was this family. This really good family. And... I had gotten happy because finally I had this real family,"his smile seemed boyish and a good cover, as she looked in the rearview mirror "and they had bought me presents and we had family night and everything . And then he started coming into my room. It was always at night. Late too," his voice suddenly seemed choked. Getting smaller and smaller, "I remember when it happened. It was the first time that it wasn't at night and the girls had gone shopping. And he told me that we were just going to play a game," he hated seeing her suddenly dissapear from that mirror. Her head fall down onto the steering wheel. He hated seeing her gaze drop. Because everyone did. Except the police of course. They just got that look in their eyes. That sucks-to-be-you look. And Evelyn had tried her hardest to keep her eyes from watering. Jack could even tell when Bobby had found out. Of course he had never _told_ him that he knew. He figured that Evelyn had. But Bobby had suddenly become that much more conscious of touching him. He hated that. And now Star would do the same thing, "he started making me do more. Touching him and stuff," his voice cracked and he played with his fingers some more, "and then he started hitting me. I was used to worse though. And I know it's fucked up but...I thought that...maybe it wasn't that bad you know? I let him fuck me because I thought that anything was better then going back to that agency and having to go through the same thing," he only looks up when she's back in the back seat with him. Intent. Keeping her gaze on him. That kind of thing Evelyn does. That look-at-me thing.

He could see that look of hesitance in her face. That should I? Look. And without any warning she pulled him to her. She pressed her fingers into the nape of his neck and he knew that there would be bruises in the morning with how hard she pressed and he welcomed it. Because for the first time in a long time they suddenly had realized that maybe they didn't have all the time in the world and that maybe things would change and maybe they couldn't stop it. And he listened to John Mayer surrounding them and for the first time in a long time he hugged somebody back. And he wasn't annoyed with that stupid tape and he wasn't annoyed with her hippie car because really he couldn't think of anywhere else he wanted to be. And he finally realized why she played that tape for so many months non-stop and why Evelyn had bought him useless and trivial things to fill up his room with and why Angel would take him on random car rides even if it was only to buy something to roll up with and why Jerry let him watch the kids even though he was the most awkward thing with them and why Bobby would watch TV with him even if it was a stupid program and he complained about it the whole time. And for the first time...he wanted to.

**Review please!! Tell me what you think...**


	10. First Times

**First Times.**

**1/1**.  
The first time Jack had really hit someone was the summer after his senior year. If he had thought before that he had been apart of the family then he had been wrong. There was no more "Come on Jackie boy has school tomorrow," or "Just stay home Jack,". Obviously, it was his slow and torturous decent into adulthood. He had thought that he was all grown up before. Smoking weed and getting high. Worrying Evelyn by staying out at all hours of the night. Getting so drunk he couldn't remember kissing the blonde haired girl that would approach him later and explain how she met him over at what's-his-face's party over-on-whatever-it-was street. He had thought that he was some tough shit. Hitting someone though. Really hitting them. Not in defense. Not because they had fucked with him. Just because. It had done something to him. He sat in the car, edgily, pressing the nail of his thumb into the back of his hand. It stung when he ran his finger over the slightly indented flesh.

"Whatever happens," there was a slight pause and Jack looked in the passenger-side mirror to see Angel back there. Content as ever. He had done this a million times before, "hey look at me Jack," a thick snap brought Jack back to attention, "don't get out of the car ok? No matter what happens. Don't get out of this fucking car,"

There had been some light arguing over what to do with him. Angel said to just let him stay in the car. Bobby, of course objected. Jerry kept his gaze fixed on something outside of the window. He could give a flying fuck about what they did with Jack. Of course he really did care. He was just pissed because the little boy couldn't keep his mouth shut. He had to tell Evelyn who had to tell Bobby. Damned if he'd ever tell him anything ever again... _He_ had gotten them into this mess. Bobby had to take everything to heart. They lived in Detroit for Christ-fucking-sake. He couldn't honestly throw a hissy fit every time someone said some unpleasant shit. It had happened simple enough. Someone had said some shit to Camille when they were out eating. Jerry had responded. Jerry got his ass beat by four guys. Whatever. He could take a beating for his girl. Bobby obviously couldn't have it.

Jack had tried to block out the sound of talking. Voices just soft enough to turn into inaudible mumbling. Bobby chuckled, motioning to the guy. Jack could just imagine what he was saying, "Can you believe this?" something along the lines of that. And then the guy said something. They were in a deserted parking lot (just catching this guy after they had waited in that parking lot for a hour) and it was suddenly as if the world had stopped. Bobby was pissed. He didn't know what the guy had said but he could see Jerry trying to calm him down.

And then he pulled the gun out of his waistband. He had never actually _seen_ the gun. He had heard about it murmured in hushed conversation. "Come on Bobby. You know I don't like you carrying that thing around..." Evelyn would say when Bobby and her were _seemingly_ alone.

Jack didn't know why. For some reason...

He thought that he could protect that guy. He thought that he could protect Bobby from his anger. He thought that he could protect Jerry by saving him. Most of all he thought that he could protect that stupid kid with the afro who had fucked with one if the Mercer kids.

That's why the first time he hit someone –really hit them– he could detach himself completely from the situation and pretend as if it really had nothing to do with himself. He made himself believe that it wasn't somewhat therapeutic for him.

"Come on Jack. Jack. Jack!" Bobby pulled him back forcefully after he didn't respond the first time. Jack ended up falling on top of him. Angel let the guy go so he could roll over somewhat and cough into the gravel parking lot. That was when he started shaking. His eyes beginning to water, "come on. Get up kid," he felt helpless having to have Bobby walk him back to the car.

Jack let Jerry touch him. He was still shaking on the ride home. The whole way home. Jerry covered Jack's hand. He didn't necessarily enclose it. Just covered it. Jack couldn't handle being enclosed. His spine straightened anytime anyone would wrap him up in a hug too tight. His breathing became labored anytime anyone would do the Evelyn thing and squeeze his hand. Anyone other than Evelyn of course. "I told you we shoulda taken the princess home first," Angel chuckled slyly, cutting a glance over at Bobby.

"Naw. He did ok for his first time,"

"Yeah, well I don't know too many people that beat some dude's ass and cry afterwards,"

"Don't _fucking_ talk about me like I'm not in the car,"

Bobby and Angel looked at each other, breaking out into laughter.

"You gonna beat me up too princess?" Angel turned around and smacked Jack's thigh although it was obvious he wasn't having so much fun with their banter. He was less enthralled than usual, "he only did it cause I was holding the guy back," Angel scoffed.

"Come on man. Leave him the fuck alone. Why yall always gotta do this shit?" Jerry sucked his teeth. Clearly, as always, he leveled himself on a higher scale than the rest.

Jack hated them. What the fuck? How could they joke about beating a guy up in the parking lot of a bar and leaving him out there like some useless piece of garbage discarded out of a car window.

"Oh shut the fuck up Jerry you got us in this shit," Angel rolled down his window all the way down, hanging his hand out to dry. Of course, the blood had dried a long time ago. If all went well though the air would sweep through Bobby's old car and dry their memories.

"No Bobby. _You _got us into this shit," Jerry mumbled , hitting the back of Bobby's chair.

"Right. Right. Blame everything on Bobby. That _always _works,"

"Just telling the truth," Jerry mumbled.

"Truth? Angel remember that time when...ah-" Bobby snapped his finger when he couldn't exactly get the words out.

"Whatever Bobby. You're always tryna blame other people for shit that-"

Jack let the voices float away from him and the feeling of Jerry's hand over his disappear as he slowly realized that he had accomplished something. Even if he had only just been inducted into their sad world of "adulthood" Jackie boy was actually growing up.

**Review please!!**


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